


grit

by aseriesofessays



Series: crush [1]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: M/M, shitty poetry that martin wrote while Lonely or whatever, slight ed tw ??? maybe ish
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-07-23 14:21:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20009722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aseriesofessays/pseuds/aseriesofessays
Summary: i am afraid of being too loud--martin is so alone.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> literally embarrassed that im writing poetry and posting it like im 13 again........... tried 2 make a new account 4 it but that would take forever . anyways here's this

oh god

i feel loneliness so thick and sweet

on my tongue

cold and buzzing and fucking

perfect when i try to

breathe

and air shudders and stops in my chest

ive been wondering lately if

im still alive

and ive decided it doesnt matter.

there is no eye prickling at the back of my neck

but there is still you, plastic and

cold and listening,

eventually

i am doing this for love of you even

though it feels

like love has abandoned me completely

even though it feels like

everything

has

gone

and left me alone in my office

writing reports that no one will look at

and poetry you will not hear

oh god i am so tired of being

so alone

oh god i am drowning in its sweetness

if you dont save me i will die and

i dont want to be saved


	2. Chapter 2

i am too small for my body,

shoulders hunching and

back curving down

i cannot hide away like id like and i can feel

eyes

on me.

i pull my skin tight around me like a blanket and try try try

to shrink,

like i have always shrunk

hiding and caring and sweet in the background

cups of tea on your goddamn desk and

i am too small for my body and i walk with

uncertain steps because

i am afraid of being too loud and

i bump things with limbs that

are ungainly

because i have never adjusted to being too much

and you must

see

me

so jesus why won’t you look up

i want i want i want to fold myself up

an origami swan hanging from a

string

my creases crisp

paper light


	3. Chapter 3

it feels like fingers are

hooking into my mouth

drawing it up into a closed mouth smile

that no one cares to see

it feels cold all the fucking time

my jumpers were too big before and now theyre

suffocating,

folds and folds and folds.

how far fucking gone am i that i cant wear my jumpers?

how far gone am i that im writing poetry about it?

who can i talk to but the silence and my notebook and 

the tape recorder, when it shows up. 

it hasnt, lately, and 

its supposed to be a good sign, and 

i am so scared, and 

i think that i am going to die, i think that i am going to die 

i think that i am going to die: i think, the sooner the better 

because i cannot breathe in this thick fog anymore 

and perhaps i was made for loneliness 

but i cannot survive it for long 

**Author's Note:**

> im projecting on martin im projecting on martin im projecting on martin and he is so so so lonely


End file.
